Lie Low
by Tresa Cho
Summary: At the end of Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore told Sirius to 'lay low' at Remus' house. How does Remus take the news? Warning slash relatioships. If that makes you queasy, do us all a favor and do not read this.


A/N- Pure unadulterated gutter smut. Do not read if you wish for a plot or something relevant to it. Just a small burst of inspiration I got when rereading the books prior to HBP.

He held the letter in his hand, watching the shadows creep across it as night fell slowly, dragging out its agony across the continent. At least it wasn't a full moon tonight, and for that he was grateful. The paper crinkled pleasantly, drifting in the nonexistent breeze that swept through his room. He had opened the windows of his house, for the night was warm and he didn't feel like activating the Cooling Charms just yet.

Finally, night swallowed the room. Rather than turning on a candle or lighting a fire, he sat in complete darkness, knowing that it would look suspicious if the lights revealed two people in his house. His neighbors were quite used to seeing him and only him. There was no use starting rumors.

His letter was short, nearly incoherent. Something about a disaster, and Harry. There had been nothing in the Daily Prophet about any sort of disaster in the scale he had written about. The only news about Harry had been his entry into the _Tri_Wizard Tournament as the… fourth contestant… Granted, that was fairly unusual to begin with… But certainly not disastrous. The boy could handle himself through the tasks, no problem.

But _he_ was coming here. To his house. This very night.

He hadn't had any contact with Sirius aside from the occasional letter here and there, and every word he clung to, long after the letters had been destroyed for Sirius' protection. Remus vaguely wondered if anything had changed. It had been over fourteen years now, and feelings have a tendency to fade after that long- especially when one spent twelve of those years in Azkaban.

The sound of an owl hooting snapped Remus from his stupor. He leapt out of his chair with more force than necessary, causing it to rock back and forth a bit. He stumbled to the front door, carried off-balance by his own momentum, and flung it open. Something black slithered past his leg, and he shut the door just as quickly as he had opened it.

The lock clicked into place, and the only sound in the hall was the frantic pounding of his heart. He turned around, and came face-to-face with the escaped convict, Sirius Black.

He didn't have time to drink in the other's appearances, for within a second of eye contact; Sirius closed the distance between them and grasped Remus' face between both his hands, and pressed his mouth down hard on Remus'. Remus tipped backwards a bit with the force, and he fetched up against the door, his head knocking against it. Sirius' fingers were chilled against his heated skin, but his lips were hot, burning fervently for touch and taste of the lover he had left behind so many years ago. At first, Remus was willing to let Sirius lead, to follow his prompting and succumb to the utter ache of having him near. Then, a small moan escaped Sirius' throat, somewhere between a sob and a gasp, and Remus knew that Sirius had waited as long as he had.

Remus let his hands travel, touching, caressing up Sirius' sadistically covered chest, over his shoulders, down his arms, until he held Sirius' trembling hands. Gently he eased them away from his face, still battling furiously with the other's tongue, not willing to spare a breath for fear he might disappear again.

After eternity and only a moment, Sirius broke away, sucking in a deep breath clutching at Remus' hands tightly. Remus stared at Sirius, and recognized tearstains streaking down his face. Slight concern was overcome by surprise that he had loosed a few silvery droplets himself, and his cheeks felt clammy and hot. Sirius closed the distance again, but did not go for Remus' mouth this time. Instead, he pressed his cheek against Remus', and drew his arms tightly around the smaller man's waist. Although Remus felt his breath crushed out of him, he knew that he needed to be closer. He drew his arms up and latched around Sirius' neck, pressing him nearly as hard as the other was squeezing him.

"Merlin, Remus…" came a choked voice.

Pulling his arms tighter, Remus smiled sadly, "I know. I know."

They gradually made their way to Remus' living room, where a couch opened its arms for them. Remus collapsed onto it with Sirius on top of him, and they shared another searing kiss, fingers wandering playfully, tongues burning fiercely. It must have been three hours later, though the clock said a mere twenty minutes, when Remus finally had to bring up business.

"Sirius, why are you here?" he asked reluctantly.

The other must have sensed the reluctance, because he replied in a lilting tone, "Dumbledore told me to lie low at your place. How low would you like me?" He had been propped up on his elbows, and now he lowered himself till his full weight rested on Remus.

Unable to help himself, Remus drew a hand through Sirius' hair, fiddling with it as if unfamiliar with its texture from years of separation. He kissed that ridiculous smirk on Sirius' face briefly, and attempted to settle his face into what he hoped was a serious look. "Sirius, you must tell me what happened."

To his shock and dismay, Sirius stiffened. With a sigh, the other climbed into a sitting position and got off the couch to pace beside the fireplace- away from the windows and peeping neighbors. The lights were still off, but one could never be too safe.

"Sirius?" Remus tried not to let his voice betray his dejection.

Sirius stopped pacing and looked straight at Remus, his eyes glittering viciously in the dark, "Voldemort is back."

For a split second, Remus forgot to breathe. "W-What?" he gasped, his chest catching painfully.

"He's back, Remus, and he nearly killed Harry."

Remus could be strong, he certainly knew how to handle a crisis, but sometimes it was just too much. He struggled into a sitting position and forced himself to breathe evenly. Almost, he put his head into his hands, but he realized they were shaking and he let them rest on his lap. Sometimes, he just needed to be protected.

Years of agony at the hand of that madman… To think that it could happen again…

"Remus…" Sirius was on his knees in front of him, and Remus wondered vaguely when he had dropped there. Ghosting the fingers of his right hand under Remus' chin, Sirius lifted his head and closed his lips over Remus'. This time, Remus responded desperately. His eyes slid shut and he gripped Sirius' hands against his chest, afraid to let go. They were going into dark times, who knew how many hours he had left with Sirius?

Sirius pressed upwards with his mouth, urging Remus into a reclining position, with the arm of the couch jutting into his back. It was slightly painful, but his discomfort was overshadowed by the passion with which Sirius was kissing him. It was as if every second might be their last, as if the Dark Lord himself would come crashing through the doors at any minute to blast them away.

"It'll be okay," Sirius murmured, his words breathing reassurance across Remus' lips. In that instant, Remus almost believed him. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that Sirius could not guarantee that. Nobody could. Not now…

Slowly, Sirius eased off, and they settled into a more comfortable position, Sirius resting on top of Remus' chest once again, each feeling the steady pounding of the others' hearts. "Harry is safe?" Remus asked quietly.

"Quite. Dumbledore sent him back to his relatives. He thinks it's the safest place for now," Sirius' voice rumbled gently, sending thrills up Remus' spine. "Now that Voldemort undoubtedly knows about my Animagus form, Dumbledore thought it best that I hide out somewhere. He doesn't want me seen at all." The familiar glint returned to Sirius' eye as he lifted his head to look at Remus, "I could hide under your covers. He won't be able to find me there." His troublesome fingers were already playing across the buttons of Remus' tattered shirt.

"Sirius," Remus sighed and brought the other's hand to his lips, "You must tell me what happened. What did the TriWizard Tournament have to do with anything?"

So Sirius started telling the story as he best knew it, assured that Dumbledore would write them with details of it later. The Portkey cup, the graveyard, Voldemort's spell to rise again. He deadpanned the tale in a flat monotone that slowed Remus' breath. If the Dark Lord was stronger than before…

A hand brushing against his cheek stirred him from his morose thoughts. Sirius was looking at him with concern. "I'm fine," Remus conceded, closing his eyes wearily, "I just can't believe this happened. Poor Harry."

"He's strong," Sirius said with great conviction, "He's like his father, if not stronger."

"I know," Remus remembered with pride the Patronus that Harry had produced at the tender age of thirteen.

"We have a bit of free time," Sirius suddenly mentioned.

"What?" Remus didn't quite follow his train of thought.

"Free time. Until Dumbledore sends us his orders," his eyes glinted wickedly again, "We shouldn't waste it. Who knows when we'll be together again?"

"Don't say that," Remus hissed, clenching his hands in the fabric of Sirius' shirt, "Please. You can't leave me again."

Sirius instantly softened, "I'm sorry, Remus, that's not how I meant it." When Remus' trembling did not calm, Sirius brushed a hand through his fading brown hair, "Shh. I'm here now. You won't be alone again, I promise." He sealed it with a kiss, because he didn't know when they would have more time.


End file.
